August 18, 2008 – Geneva (apj.us) – Some readers know that I have a few “insiders” at Congress, the White House, and the Cheney Bunker. One of them, a Cheney watchdog, finally earned the fifty bucks a week I give her and sent me a tape of a knock-down, drag-out fight between Condi Rice and Dick Cheney.
I only wish I had it on film.
You will recall that Condi and Cheney cooked up a scheme in which President Takaishvili of Georgia would anger Vlad Putin so much as to cause an international incident and take the heat off the real prize – Iranian nuclear processing plants.
Even Condi didn’t feel right about this one. For one thing, Cheney, as usual would bury himself in his spider hole once “Project Melted Tbilisi” began. For another, Condi was getting worried she hadn’t been offered a $7 million a year job from any major military contractor yet. In short, she wondered if the “gang” had gone too far and ruined her chances for that gold-plated Steinway she had been coveting.
To make a long story longer, Condi did what she was told, like a good Chihuahua, and got “Taki” to start annoying the Russians by picking off their former citizens who lived in the North of Georgia, knowing full well that Putin was already beet-red angry about the “defensive” missiles we were “staging” in Poland, and the other secret stuff we planned in Ukraine.
Cheney thought Putin was not stupid enough to take on NATO and the United States. He never though to wonder what he would do if Russian started placing “defensive” missiles in Tijuana.
Condi, not the sharpest blade in your Schick dispenser, is still a lot smarter than Cheney. She was worried and for good reason.
When the Ruskies sent a few million tanks down the highway to Hell – all heading toward Georgia’s capital, Cheney was nonetheless delighted. Condi rushed over to the Naval Observatory on Massachusetts Avenue scared out of her wits that she’d been had by this ever-pre-cardiac loon.
There he was in his bunker, wearing an athletic t-shirt, unshaven, in camouflage pants, and hauling around a half-empty bottle of tequila with a worm in it while wearing a gold lame sombrero.
“Dick” she yelled, “Dick! calm down. We’ve really started something now. We have that idiot French loon Sarkozy acted like Gandhi trying to settle this thing, and I hear Angela Merkel is flying over to Tbilisi to make nice to Taki.”
“Don’t worry, Connie… er, Condi,” yelled Cheney over the hat dance music coming from his quad-wired iPod, “thish ish jush what I wanned. Now we have an excyush to go after the Gold: Russia hershelf”!
With that, he leapt on a table and started panting with excitement yelling DEFCON FOUR, DEFCON FOUR!
My tape is a little garbled after that, but I can hear furniture crashing, glasses being thrown, and Condi yelling at Cheney to sit down and drink a quadruple espresso.
Just as the tape was about to run out, I heard her say, “You want a war? You want a war, bitch? Fight it yourself, you [expletive deleted] pig!”
My source told me she then flipped Cheney off and strode out of the bunker in a super huff! We got a picture of that!
Wow! Good for Condi. Maybe now Cheney will sober up, re-connect his defib and go on to conquer the Falklands.
Jeff Koopersmith is an internationally renowned political consultant, opinion research authority and policy analyst. He has lobbied for causes including the alternative fuel sector and women's health, and is an expert on the international real estate market. He lives in Philadelphia, Washington and Geneva.